Aftermath
by Sambev
Summary: COMPLETED. We took each other’s hands without knowing the other was looking for it. I must have known, subconsciously, that he would want something to hold onto.
1. Chapter 1

Aftermath.

Soldiers were yelling to each other, bullets were behind us. They were driven back as they were destroyed. Bodies littered the ground; their heads mangled messes. They covered the ground so thickly we couldn't always walk around them.

With each step my horror of the situation increased. It felt easier to cope knowing I was going to die, then knowing I would live and have to think back to this day forever. The sight and the sounds seemed dulled from all I'd seen that day. I had to except this day as another day in my life.

We took each other's hands without knowing the other was looking for it, Shaun and I, that is. Although, I must have known, subconsciously, that he would want something to hold onto. Through the dark I could see his other hand; the fingers clenching and unclenching around the axe, while the thumb kept the weapon locked in his fist.

No one is the area seemed ready to part with their weapon, I couldn't seem to either. It will never seem right to for me to call a cricket bat a weapon. Then again, it will never feel right to think of this day and smile like I sometimes do.

Yvonne was leading us to a blocky military vehicle, too large for the narrow streets of London. She's stop every few yards to see that we hadn't fallen behind. Soldiers were prowling the area, shooting any of them that had manages to escape the first barrage, or simply beating any who hadn't passed with the butts of their guns. I saw the suspicious looks, even Yvonne seemed to scan Shaun and I for wounds. I don't doubt anyone would pause in destroying us if we appeared to be a threat.

I considered the possibility, what if I had been the only survivor? What if Shaun had had to shoot me? I know he would do it, and I know it would kill him. I looked at his face and his eyes. The sight of him in his own misery brought a fresh wave of silent tears. He just stared. I know he did not see what was before his eyes. There was nothing to see for him.

Yvonne had forgotten to turn for us as we neared the vehicle and it became obvious which one was for us. Until she motioned to the open set of heavy double doors did I notice we had stopped following her. Shaun had stopped walking.

"Shaun?"

He looked to me. Clean trails had washed through the grime and blood below his eyes, it made him look ghastly and older than he really was.

"Liz." He mumbled in response, then continued walking led by my subtle dragging. I looked ahead and saw what must have caused him to stop. Yvonne jumped into the back of the truck, energetic, and waved for us.

Earlier that day we had seen Yvonne leading a group of her family and friends. Our two groups had made different decisions and chosen different paths. Now, they all sat in the truck together on the narrow bench protruding from the side, more or less unharmed.

There was just enough room in the truck for us to sit on the floor. I separated my hand from Shaun's as we reached the van.

"Liz." He said again, a bit more clearly, demanding my attention.

"Not now Shaun," I turned to look at him, "we have plenty of time to talk later."

Shaun shook his head a little, "No Liz." He reached for my shoulder and missed, "I think…" he swallowed hard and pulled himself into the back of the truck without finishing. He helped me in afterwards. I left the bit of chain I'd used to defend myself in the dirt. I wouldn't need it.

The doors were closed and the vehicle started and began to move. Neither of us bothered to ask where we were going, I don't think either of us were really interested.

"You think what Shaun?" I whispered after we had settled into the small space. We had to lean against each other, not that we minded. I was glad for the warmth and the calm. I was exhausted, I imagine he was physically and emotionally drained. Shaun probably needed a doctor. We'd both be stiff after tomorrow.

He looked at me, his gaze darting from one eye to the other. Shaun put his hand on my chin and began to wipe the tears from my cheeks with his thumb. As he did a small sobs escaped him. His hand dropped, leaving a cold spot on my face as he lowered his head ashamedly.

I saw his hand, from leaving my face, joined the other around the axe. His knuckles were white. "Look at me Shaun." I commanded quietly and began unpeeling his hands from it. He let me have it.

Shaun shook his head. His hand went up, and tore the bloodied makeshift bandage from his head. Revealing the puncture wound Diane had caused with the dart. That would need stitches. I heard Yvonne cringe behind me; she must have questions. But neither of us were ready to answer them.

"Look at me."

He shook his head again, harder this time. "No, I can't." It broke my heart to hear his voice crack with tears. "I don't deserve you. I…" He stopped and took a shaky breath. "I hate myself." His voice was almost too quiet to hear.

"What?"

Carefully I laced my fingers in his, not careing about the dried blood.He didn't answer, I didn't really expect him to. I had heard.


	2. Chapter 2

(I hadn't originally intended for this to be a multichapter story, but I decided to extend it for my one lovely reader, not that I don't understand why I only have one. I have never seen Dawn of the Dead, gasp. So I'm sure I'm lacking in a lot of things people are looking for concerning the characters and plot, and haven't tried to be funny. What I was aiming for was a more realistic view of the aftermath (note title) of real personalities. So if you could try and keep that in mind, maybe that would help.

Thank you Zombie Kitty for the review, I'd have read one of your stories if I had ever heard of it. I'm sure you understand, sorry for the cursing and your name is amusing.)

Chapter two

When I awoke I could hear Shaun in the front room, flipping channels, as was our morning ceremony. He was up early for a Saturday, I'd hoped I be able to spend the morning with my head on his chest, feigning sleep. Maybe tomorrow if I kept him up late enough.

"The memory of Z-day was an event so tragic no two people reacted the same, and yet the people of England were brought together as a whole to cope with the tragedy."

Three weeks since that day when Shaun finally climbed up to my window after many failed attempts. Since he had to shoot his mother in the head with a rifle that dislocated both his shoulders from its intensity. And I had moved in with the man I planned to spend my life with. They were still playing the same thing on television as the moment it came back on air, and we weren't jaded on it yet.

The shower confessional: there are things that will only become clear in the shower. There are important thoughts that will only be released under the spray of water. And acceptance that can only be gained by washing doubt down the drain.

For some people that day was merely an excuse for drama. News and television filled with hypocrisies and ironies to keep the media's attention. There wasn't a channel on cable or otherwise that did not discuss the events of "Z-day" for at least a month. Shaun and I spent hours just flipping through the channels. Spending no more than ten minutes on each of them. Somehow television was immediately back on air; apparently enough people had survived to make that possible.

For others the entire event was too much. Between the sorrowful tales of survivors, acts of rebuilding and unnecessary science behind the day there were countless cases of suicide. Shaun would listen to these stories with a deadpan respect, cringing every time the word zombie was used. I just watched, somehow managing to feel pity in-between my own loss.

Truly Shaun hadn't said a word, not since that night. He'd cleared the rubbish and bodies, fixed the windows. He'd even helped me clean his flat when I began to move in. He was still determined to be the hero, faultlessly. Though he made no move to clear away his roommates things. He'd make jokes, he seemed happy. But there were little things, like the way he refused to except the word zombie. How he never sat where Ed used to on the sofa. There was almost something passive aggressive I'd never seen in him before, where he was too quick to apologize and with too much sincerity.

Sometimes when I glanced at him, while the News explained how a teen had jumped to his death after he had lost his mother and father, just to see what he was thinking, I would find him glancing at me at me too. Wondering the same thing.

There wasn't always reason to everything we did, some days I was almost able to laugh at the ridiculous remakes of particularly tragic tales. Other times mere mentions caused me to cry, I never cried very often. He cried more than I did, but Shaun was always there for me.

I've stayed at his house everyday since, it just seemed natural. I was all he had left, and he was all I wanted. I knew, unless I said otherwise, we would stay together. Shaun certainly wasn't going to tell me to leave, after he'd wanted me so badly and risked everything he had to save my life.

I'm sure that he must be terrified that I'll leave. I just don't know how to make him know I wont. I wanted things to change, and they have. I wanted him to be more responsible and he is. Those were the only things that made me ever leave him.

I turned the jet of water off and reached out for my towel. There was a knock on the door, "Liz? I just took the kettle off, do you want sugar?"

"No babe, plain is fine." I shouted back at him while toweling my hair off. "Thanks!"

"Yea!" He disappeared and I finished drying and dressed myself. Dark and plain, it wouldn't last forever. Although for the time it seem only appropriate. It seemed there were too many for me to mourn so I barely mourned at all, but there was no other way to be when every corner held a grave.

It would seem too drawn out to act like we were attending a funeral. There were no corpses, at least not in Shaun and my case. Any non functional corpses were "disposed of". We assume that's what happened to everyone we'd left in the pub and Phillip. Many of the deceased were still around, doing odd jobs or simply being kept. I found it disgusting, but wouldn't be surprised if saw Shaun's step dad on a ridiculous sports show one of these days.

We were simply attending a memorial, plain and simple. Hundreds of others would be there, like us all leaving flowers and bowing their heads. Just like us.

"Good morning." I said when I found him in front of the television sipping his tea. I sat down next to him and took the second cup from the table.

"Morning." Shaun said, leaning over to put a small kiss on my cheek. Then he went back to

Shaun was closest, so he got up to answer it. "Hello?" On the other side of the line I could hear the slightest trace of the speakers voice. They had to been speaking very loudly for me to pick it up from the couch. I never knew that to think until Shaun answered, as he never knew what to think when I picked up the phone. It could either be good news or bad news, so soon after Z-day there was no in-between, no idle chit chat.

Shaun had waited on the couch while I answered and spoke to my mother, while she relayed to me who would not be making the next family reunion. I had waited while Shaun had to tell Paul's mother that she would never see her boy again. I assumed by Shaun's silence it was bad news.

"No, I'm very sorry." Shaun said after a moment, I could hear a slight annoyance in his voice. I got up and put my head next to his, he tilted the phone towards me so I could hear better.

"Fuck!" Someone answered, in the background we heard someone complaining about having to find a new supplier. "So what, did Ed get his guts eaten or something, or go fuckin' zombie?" The back ground commentary mentioned how funny that would have been.

Shaun's knuckles were white, his voice cracked when he spoke, "Fuck you!" was all he managed before I snatched the phone from him and replaced in on the hook.

"Shaun!" I griped at him, though I knew he had every right to be angry.

He waved defensively at the phone as if that explained everything. He uttered the word again and stalked to the other side of the room rubbing his temples. After a moment he took a breath, "I'm sorry Liz."

That was unnecessary, for him to apologize that is. I found that most angering over anything, including the two twits who had called. "Are you ready to leave then?"

"Yea," Shaun answered, relatively smooth. Tossed me my coat, took his and went to hold the door for me.

He fallowed me out to the corner. There streets were still very quiet, there were very few cars. Of course there were no tourists, England, using the nicest term possible, was quarantined. Not that any foreigners were terribly interested in dropping by at the moment, but then it's actually surprising how people, especially Americans, flock to other peoples tragedy. Because of that and the sudden decrease in the population there was no immediate reason to return buses and cabs to the city. The underground was open though, the only public transportation where nobody could hear you scream.

Some people were sobbing, although it had been three weeks. Then, maybe they had just heard about whoever it was they were here to mourn. Shaun and I were dry. It was still hard, but it was reality, all you could do was except it.

"We were lucky." I said offhandedly. Shaun set the bouquet we had bought against the fence. The fence separated people like us from a series of large pillars made of stone. The stone was donated to us by Italy. A few famous British sculptors and architects, neither of us had heard of, had designed and made the pillars. There were seven of them in all, containing the name of every one who had died on "Z-day". The center pillar contained a fairly appropriate poem written by someone I don't think anyone has ever heard of, about lost love and acceptance. The kind of poem you've either read and read or were too bored to read past the first line.

"Hmm." Shaun answered. He had been pretty quiet since we arrived,. He took his hand out from around my waist to wipe sweat from his forehead. None of the pillars close enough for us to read contained any one we knew, I found the name of an old collage buddy, but that was it. But seeing others in pain and the memorial was a site to see, and enough of a memory for both of us. "Why?"

I pointed to the pillar in front of us. "Some people lost their whole families."

"It could have been worse." He added, he wiped his head again even though it was a cold day. Shaun was referring of course to us. I could have lost him, or he could have lost me. Of course, without "Z-day" he never would have gotten me back.

"Not feeling well?"

He didn't answer. I knew he didn't feel well. Earlier this week his right arm had been taken out of a sling, and stitches had been taken out of his head the week before then. I walked away with nothing more than a few scratches, and I still woke up stiff.

"I'm ready to watch television for the rest of the day. How 'bout you?" Shaun said after a moment, pinching the end of his chin thoughtfully.

"Yea."


	3. Chapter 3

(I'm sorry for the abrupt ending guys, but, yeah, I'm just not feeling it. Which means I probably shouldn't have written it in the first place. I have another idea for a Shaun fic, that I really like. You might be seeing that. Even though schools about to start and I wont have much time. Thanks for the reviews I really do appreciate it!) 

Chapter three

I lost them, and I couldn't remember how I had fallen behind so badly. One moment they were there with me and gone the next.

They must already be inside my mind told me. They're wondering where I am, and if I don't hurry Shaun will try to rescue me and get us all killed.

The street was filled with them, they brushed by me, it was a struggle not to fall. My knees were shaking so hard it's a wonder they weren't brought by the sound. I couldn't do this on my own. The safety I had felt in the group suddenly disappeared when I looked up and they were gone.

With every step forward I took the pub seemed farther away. The fading light was in my eyes, I could hardly see forward to continue. Squinting ahead against the glare I couldn't see anyone at the window, I didn't hear anyone calling my name. Shaun wouldn't have just left me behind like that.

I drew closer and quickened my pace. Pieces of my blonde hair fell in front of my face. The air was extraordinarily soft. If they weren't dead my cleanliness and the alive color of my face would have surely given me away. Fear caused me to glow under a spot light in my own mind.

Something grabbed at my ankle. I shrieked before I could catch myself, and landed on my knees, uncomfortably close to a bleeding face. Grey heads turned towards me and began to moan with what have been excitement.

Run. My mind screamed, then I screamed when I couldn't get up. Fear made me go to pieces and I finally pulled myself up enough to run, knocking them away from me. I couldn't stay up, I fell continuously as I continued towards the pub. I saw Shaun and the others waving for me to hurry to the door.

They were slowing me down, I felt them clawing at my clothing and pulling my backwards. The one who had grabbed my ankle, it's face flashed through my mind. Stopping abruptly I turned to look where it had been. And as I looked harder I saw them all, face down or rising slowing with those blank looks on their faces. I could see what had been causing me to trip.

A hand landed hard on my shoulder and I looked into his vacant eyes. "Shaun?"

"What?"

Warm fingers brushed hair behind my ear. I eased awake with an unsettling feeling in my stomach.

There is a moment between sleeping and waking, a very delicate moment where you sigh either in relief or in disappointment. It's delicate because you dream about what you know and what you know will always be there when you wake up.

Shaun's eyes met mine; blurry and half lidded with drowsiness. I studied him for a moment, separating the aspects of my nightmare from reality. "Nothing, I was having a bad dream."

"Mmm." He said and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. "Who got eaten?"

I smiled lightly, settling against him. I imagine he said that because he, like me, and the entire population of England were having the same nightmare every night, though he could have been trying to be funny, which might be why I didn't laugh. "Everyone."

"Mmm hmm. Not feeling very imaginative is it?"

There isn't a proper answer to that.

In so few words my dread did mimic reality, and more so as it faded quickly from my memory. But only is that's how you wished to think about it, which I did in particular. I had never felt that foreboding sense of hopelessness, even as I thought my life was moments from over.

A person will always adjust to the situation at hand, it's that serenity that helps you survive. There is no such serenity in a nightmare, that's what makes one so terrifying in the first place. That's why so often you meet your end if you hadn't woken up before that point.

We took to drowsy silence. I kept hoping I would fall asleep again; there was no reason to get up to early on a Sunday morning. Especially if you worked in the education department. Then again there isn't much point to lying in bed pretending for too long.

"Is someone knocking on the door?" I asked after having studied a small tapping in the back of my hearing, it finally registered that it might be someone at the door. If it was someone knocking they were probably extremely annoyed by now, but hadn't given up yet, that deserved credit in itself.

"Is there?"

"That's why I asked. Go check."

Shaun made a scene of untangling the two of us and shuffling out of the bedroom.

I rolled off the bed after him and looked for a robe. Mine seemed to have disappeared, but I wasn't much into appearing to a guest in my pajamas.

"Christ! I'm coming!" Shaun hollered, I could hear his pace quicken to the door. At least I was right, I'd have hated to ruin the moment for nothing.

I gave the room one more look over, "Well forget it then." I mumbled and left the bedroom in my pajamas. Rounding the corner there was the distinct scream of my boyfriend. "Oh my god, Liz!"

"What's wrong?" I called and stepped a little quicker. I somehow pictured Shaun being chewed on by a stray zombie.

"Nothing's wrong." He answered In a tone that was twitching with laughter.

"Liz!" I recognized the voice immediately, but I could hardly believe it.

"I though you were dead!" We both said at the same time. Dianne pulled me into a hug. I looked over her shoulder at Shaun as he was shutting the door. I would have to talk to later.

We all found our way to the couch, and I went to make tea. Shaun asked the question we were both wondering about.

"What happened?" He was still laughing. Now I'm not actually sure he cared, as long as she was here.

Dianne suddenly had a strange look on her face, but grinned. "Oh you know…" She began just as I sat down.

Before Z-day he didn't really know Dianne that well, and he wasn't horribly fond of David. In fact it turned out they rather disliked each other strongly, seeing as David tried to kill Shaun, and Shaun brought it on. But tragedies really bring people together. Now Dianne stood for something Shaun desperately needed back in his life, something he needed before and after Z- day. Hope.


End file.
